


Breakfast

by Maggiemaye



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, post-Fractured
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 14:38:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5970670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maggiemaye/pseuds/Maggiemaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're going to trust me someday, Happy Quinn."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breakfast

**Author's Note:**

> Because I'm putting off homework and still dying of Quintis feels :) And because I think these two babes are still a long way from secure, bless their hearts. Feedback is always appreciated!

Happy woke up to the sun slanting in through the blinds. This never happened at her place; she’d invested in blackout curtains long ago. But she wasn’t at her place. It had been a while since she had slept there, in fact. Toby’s bed had turned out to be a lot more comfortable.

He was still asleep next to her, slack-jawed with one arm hanging off the side of the bed. Happy pressed her lips to his shoulder but he didn’t stir. She hadn’t really expected him to; it took more than a little sunlight or a soft touch to wake Toby. Happy didn’t wait for him to get up, but she did pull the blankets up around his shoulders before getting out of bed. It had become a habit, but only while he was sleeping. She wondered if Toby ever noticed that he was tucked in a little tighter when he woke up in the mornings. After one more long glance down at him, she slipped his heavy bathrobe back over her shoulders and wandered into the kitchen.

Toby’s fridge was well-stocked with real food, not just old takeout. Happy had seen it totally bare in the past; sometimes when they ordered food at the garage, she’d seen him tear into it like he didn’t know when he’d be eating again. _He really must be doing well with the ponies,_ she thought—and _that_ brought up a whole new set of questions. Doubts that Happy had stubbornly pushed out of her mind until this very moment, like she’d just flipped a switch.

It was easy to bury her head in the sand when they were on cases every day and their nights were focused on…other things. Namely, how many different ways could she draw out a shudder or a sigh from Toby, get him so worked up that he kissed her with teeth and pressed grip marks into her hips? Her toes curled just thinking about the night before. Toby was fantastic at providing distractions, but her brain wouldn’t let her stay distracted forever. One of the drawbacks of being a genius.

It all crashed over her like cold water, a wave of everything she’d avoided thinking about. She and Toby had known one another a long time; maybe too long. She had witnessed him living from one thrill to the next, seeking highs, tempting fate, destroying the very best things in his life. Toby had never really been satisfied with anything. All the charm and puppy eyes in the world didn’t make that any less dangerous. And Happy could freely admit that she was no cakewalk herself. How could she have actually envisioned the two of them in a relationship? What had she been thinking?

Happy wondered if she might actually freak out right here in front of Toby’s open fridge. _I’m doing well with the ponies_ kept echoing in her mind over and over. Given his track record, there was a good chance that someday he would decide he’d rather be at a craps table than with her. How long would it be before he got bored with her, dropped her and never looked back? How long before Toby became just like everyone else?

She could leave right now. She could get dressed and slip out the door, show up to work on Monday morning and walk right past him like the past few weeks hadn’t happened. She could save herself the inevitable crash and burn. It would be just like her; hell, Toby was probably expecting it. She’d halfway made up her mind when—

“Hey.”

Happy jumped about a foot and turned to see Toby wandering in from the bedroom, still blinking himself awake. He ran one hand through rumpled hair and covered a yawn with the other.

“You’re up already.” His smile was soft and Happy couldn’t help but return it. About ten quips came to the front of her mind, but they all died on her lips as he moved to stand behind her, wrapping her up in his arms.

“Thought you might want breakfast.”

“Sure,” he murmured against her neck. He didn’t waste any time sliding his hands inside the loose fastenings of the robe, and Happy’s breath caught. “Sounds great.”

“I meant actual food,” she said with a smirk, closing the fridge against the cold air on newly exposed skin. She shivered anyway, though, at Toby’s fingers ghosting up and down her rib cage. His touch grounded her in a way that Happy never would have expected, gently suppressing that ever-present instinct to bolt. She leaned back against his chest, shifting so that she could feel him pressed up close to her.

In the end she gave up the idea of cooking and they settled on cereal, eating across the table from one another in silence. Normally Happy didn’t mind quiet, but it was taking Toby a lot longer than usual to break the silence. She sat there, uneasy and jittery, until he finally spoke.  

“Thank you,” he said, looking over at her with wide, earnest eyes.

“For what, exactly?” She raised a sly eyebrow. “Because I can think of several things just from last night.”

He grinned, but for once didn’t run with the innuendo. Instead, he reached over and took her hand.

“For staying. For giving me a chance,” he said, and the guilt hit her stomach like a brick. Maybe he saw it in her face somehow, because he kept talking.

“I know I’ve said this before, but I want you to know I’m all in, Happy.”

She winced. “Maybe no gambling metaphors right now, Doc.”

He nodded, his face turning serious again, and for a moment Happy wished she could take the words back. When he spoke next he was looking down at the table.

“You’re going to trust me someday, Happy Quinn.”

Paige was always talking about how facts don’t tell the whole story. As she watched Toby crunching cereal in his underwear, giving her hesitant looks every now and then, Happy thought she might be able to come around to that way of thinking. On paper, they had a lot going against them, and that was hard for her to ignore. But paper and real life didn’t always look the same, especially where people were involved. And there was one thing she knew for sure; Toby Curtis wasn’t like everyone else. She’d been wrong to doubt that.

Maybe there was hope.

She put down her spoon and stood up, relocating from her chair to Toby’s lap. He smiled up at her as she settled astride him, his hands moving automatically to her waist like they belonged there.

“I hope so,” she said with a tiny smile, so close that her lips brushed his as she spoke. “Because I’m all in, too.”


End file.
